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I was standing at the bus stop by the Lexington Farmers' Market for the exact duration of this afternoon's storm. I was not struck by lightning, but I did get wet. I waited from about the time of the first drops for maybe twenty-five minutes. The rain stopped almost exactly when I stepped onto the bus. It would have been faster to walk (with all the water pipe replacement and other construction, the 62 & 76 have been running quite late, or not according to schedule, anyway), but I was carrying flowers for a friend's birthday and thought they'd get less shaken up on the bus. Not sure it's true, but they still smell wonderful. Speaking of smell - if one can overhear a conversation in a public place, why can't one oversmell someone's breakfast? I was telling Arthur about why I bought something in a cafeteria, and that was why - the person at the next table was eating something that smelled good, so I got up and bought the same thing.

Hijab cosplay:
Is the video working properly?

Boston Early Music Festival
The two main festival concerts I thought I would like were inconveniently timed - the 5 PM yesterday would have required that I miss tap class, which I didn't want to do, and the 11 PM concert tonight (Music about St Swithun from a thousand years ago) would have meant that I would miss the last red line train, I suspect. I've done a couple of things I really liked as part of the Fringe, though. Yesterday afternoon, I attended the open CPE Bach sing at Memorial Church at Harvard. Not early music, as far as I am concerned, but nice. People have been working for decades to compile all his choral music, aided by someone noticing some manuscripts in the KGB archives when the Soviet Union ended. Russia politely returned the sheet music to Hamburg, where it was written. The sing was open to anybody, but the expectation was a fairly high level of ability. I was barely squeaking by. I carefully sat next to someone who looked like she'd be a good sight-singer (I can't tell you how I knew, but I was right) and dropped out from measures I couldn't cope with, for fear of messing up loudly. Edward Jones, the organist/choir director there, was terrific, and there was a really nice combination of pickiness and praise in his remarks. I cannot imagine what it must be like to have the skill to be able to say something like "one of the tenors is singing " (whatever the one person's wrong note was). We were in the chapel, but I spent some time wandering around the sanctuary beforehand. I don't know that I had ever been there. I was bemused to see Franklin Delano Roosevelt listed on the wall of alumni/students who died during WWII. He did die during the war, while a government employee, but I thought it was a stretch. I said so out loud, and the guy next to me said "He was commander-in-chief." So, yeah, I guess that counts as military service enough to be on a memorial wall (???)
The wonderful old Taylor bell that was removed a few years ago is now on display near the side entrance.
Today's fringe fun was at Old West, two groups singing a cappella choral music (by groups I mean four women in The Marion Consort, three men in Three Little Birds, including the man who has been working on the garden at Old West). The time range was mostly early (some as early as 12th century), lots of it religious music, but not all. The concert finished with all of them singing together an 18th century song by Thomas Arne called "Which is the properest day to sing?" (they concluded Tuesday, which I don't think was in the original version). In the introduction, director Amy Bearden mentioned that Arne is most famous for writing "Rule Britannica" (like the encyclopedia, I guess). She was corrected.

The other topic was supposed to be an inward-looking reflection on why I have been reacting out loud in anger a couple of times recently in ways that I previously would have held in. I don't think I can really blame the heat. Part of it is small things that turn out to be tipping points. I'll think about it some more, and then try again.
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